Our Lie Abilities
by all-mirth-no-matter
Summary: She's a famous actress recovering from a difficult hiatus. He's a member of a band just trying to make it. They're lying to the world - but can Lydia and Stiles lie to themselves? Fake dating, non-supernatural AU.
1. Chapter 1: She's Back

**I updated this story!** **I'm sorry if you were enjoying the other story, but I think this one will be much better! It has a more solid premise and hopefully I'm starting it with a little more narrative.** **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or the characters. I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

"Lydia, it would be social suicide for you not to go."

She paused putting on her fake eye lashes just so she could dramatically roll her eyes at her mother's insistence. She huffed, "You know, it's moments like this where I remember how many people told me I was crazy for choosing my mother as my manager."

Natalie scoffed, waving her hand in the air lazily as if she'd heard this a thousand times before. "And it's moments like that where I like to remind you that no other manager would have let their actress take nearly two years off – of any and all public appearances! Even mothers! You think Kris Jenner would let those daughters of hers go even a month without posting _something_ scandalous on their Twitters?"

"You're so dramatic, mom," Lydia surrendered. "I just don't want to go to this stupid party."

"It's not a party, it's a gala."

Another eye roll. "A gala is just a fancy party wealthy people throw to get wealthier people to give them more money."

" _Exactly_. And this happens to be an important gala that you were personally invited to."

Her mom glanced over at Lydia, who was looking worrisomely down at her hands as she sat in front of the mirror.

Natalie approached her daughter tentatively, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, I know you're just stepping back into this… but remember, this kind of thing is pretty routine. You've been to hundreds of these kind of parties –" Lydia raised her finger before Natalie swatted it away. " _Galas_. Don't be Miss Smart-Ass. It's a large investor of the movie and a personal friend of Deaton's, which is why the _entire_ cast is expected to be there and mingle. And that includes the lead."

Lydia pressed her lips into a tight line. She knew when she'd been defeated – especially since her mother was already combing through her closet pulling out potential dresses she should wear. She almost made a snide remark about how she would be 30 in a few years and didn't need her mother to still pick out her clothes, but bit her tongue when she weighed the odds of _that_ cat fight.

It wasn't worth it. She was stressed enough as it was, she didn't need her mom pissed at her on top of it. She sighed, thinking about the gala. She knew when she signed on to this movie she was going to regret it, she just didn't realize it'd be so soon.

Her mother had a point – not many managers would have let their clients go ghost for more than a year. Especially in her case, reaching sky rocket success after years and years of such hard work and dedication.

At one point in time, Lydia had been considered the 'it' girl, starring and co-starring in movie after movie. Once there were even three of her movies all airing in the theater at the same time. She could do it all: romance, comedy, action. And her specialty: science-fiction thriller. She was one of the most sought-after actresses in the industry; nothing could stop her.

And then one day, she stopped.

She started by rejecting every script Natalie gave her to read, then turning down roles that were handed to her. Eventually she stopped accepting any social invitation she received, from premiers to small gatherings.

The scream-queen herself – the great Lydia Martin – dropped the industry in the prime of her career. She had absolutely no desire to jump back into anything.

And then she got the call.

Alan Deaton was a world renowned director, known for creating absolute masterpieces on screen. He always knew exactly what he wanted and who he wanted to cast. It'd always been Lydia's dream to act in one of his movies. So when Natalie got the phone call that Deaton wanted _Lydia_ to star as the lead female in his next film, she finally broke her streak of silence and agreed to meet him.

Just a meeting, she'd told her mom. She wasn't making any promises.

It just would have been impolite _not_ to see him, she reasoned.

She'd heard the stories about Deaton. That he was like a quiet rolling thunderstorm: unsuspecting and calm, but knew how to create the perfect storm of beauty, strength, and magic in a flash of brilliant light.

There was no other way for her to describe their initial meeting besides safe. He was different than most directors she'd met with in the past. Most of them either wanted you to spend the entire time stroking their egos or proving your own talent.

Deaton spent most of their meeting talking about their pets. By the time she started showing off pictures of her sweet childhood dog Prada, she knew that this was someone she wouldn't mind working with.

When he finally got around to telling her about the movie, she was sold.

A rendition of The Little Mermaid, the script for Siren Heart was set to be the fantasy thriller of the year. Lydia fell in love immediately with Valda, the mermaid princess of a great sea king. The story followed the classic mermaid legend: creatures of the ocean who preyed on sailors, leading them to their watery graves with their beautiful, seductive voice.

While the premise was ultimately the same as the original tale (young mermaid falls in love with humanity and then a young human man, trades her voice and tail to a sea witch for legs, tries to get the prince to fall in love with her, sacrifices herself for her love), his script had a bit of a twist.

It was a story of forsaken innocence, Lydia's character grows vengeful and devises a plan to infiltrate the castle and kill the traitorous king who killed her father. She trades her voice to the sea witch for legs, who instructs her to bring the heart of the one who betrayed her own. In the end, she discovers where her own heart lies and what she must sacrifice to bring peace and reconciliation. The story ends when Valda pays the ultimate sacrifice and the prince lays her in the ocean, where her body turns to sea foam and a beautiful song is released into the air.

Lydia cried when she finished the script. To both her and her mother's surprise, she agreed immediately to star in the movie.

" _This_ one!"

Her mother's voice caused her to jump. She spun around to see Natalie holding up a gorgeous purple satin dress. She had to give it to her mom, she did have excellent taste.

As she tried on the dress, she heard her mom answer the phone and take it in the next room. She then worked on her hair, brushing out the tight curls from earlier until they hung softly around her face. While she normally had deep strawberry blonde hair, for her role in the movie they added red-tented highlights to really make it pop. She agreed to keep the highlights for a small time after during the promotions for the movie before letting it fade back to normal. She braided a piece of it and wrapped it around her head while the rest of her hair fell down her back. It was simple and complimented the simplicity of the dress. She hummed her approval, always proud of herself when she could style her own hair without the assistance of a professional.

" _Yes, she will be there. Friday it is. Thank you, ciao."_ Natalie hung up the phone as she walked back into the room.

"Who was that?" Lydia asked. "And what have you committed my Friday to?"

"It's for the movie, dear."

"Ugh the promos didn't get moved up, did they? I thought that wasn't starting until the week after?"

Shooting was over by now. And with it, the fun. Next up we're promos, which included everything from photo shoots and interviews to touring and social media buzz. _Promos_ , Lydia thought, _bleh._

Natalie shook her head, rummaging through Lydia's shoe rack. "No, everything is still scheduled properly. It's the meeting to discuss the music video."

Lydia paused, turning to face her mother. "Excuse me?"

"The music video. For _Unleashed_ , the song you sing at the end of the movie."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "I know what song I sing, mother – I'm the one who spent weeks perfecting that song. The question was directed at the music video. Don't they just find the latest pop singer and get them to do a cover? Why would I be involved in that?"

"That's not the case here. Deaton contracted a band to come in and write him that song. They wrote the lyrics and music and everything. Now they're releasing it with their own sound to promote the movie. You are to star in the video. We'll be seeing the band Friday to meet and go over next steps."

Lydia groaned. "I've got to act in their music video? Why can't they just take scenes from the movie and intermingle it in with the band singing on a beach somewhere like a normal song feature?"

Natalie shrugged, handing her a pair of gold strappy heels that matched the gold necklace and earrings Lydia had just put on. "That's the way the band wanted it. It's in your contract to oblige. Now, stand up, let me look at you."

Lydia did as her mother instructed, straightening the front of her dress as she adjusted the neckline.

"Beautiful," her mother raved, clapping her hands together as if doting over her own masterpiece. Lydia smiled appreciatively, but gulped as she thought about the next step… actually going to the gala. Her mom noticed the apprehension, lifting her chin as she smiled at her daughter. "You're going to be fine, sweetheart. Keep your chin up and know that this is where you belong. You're back! Head up, shoulders back, lips pouted. Walk into that room like you own it."

Lydia forced herself to stifle her scoff. She knew her mother had the best intentions. That was her job – as a mother and a manager – to keep her daughter happy and confident. But the irony wasn't lost on Lydia. Two years ago the actress owned any room she walked into, and she certainly wouldn't have needed to be coaxed to such lengths to go to any kind of social engagement, or be reminded on how to present herself.

But that was before she was knocked off her high horse – before she realized what self-involvement and the bad end of being used by people brought you. Pain and humiliation. Now, the thought of walking into a room with all eyes on her, the prospect of having to _talk_ with people, made her want to duck for cover.

She loved to act. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it until she started this project. If only she could do what she loved without all the _extra_ stuff involved.

Natalie's reassuring smile sparked enough confidence in her to nod her head. "It's just a party, darling – you've got this."


	2. Chapter 2: Meet Cute

**I updated the story! So if you're getting the notification for this chapter after reading the first, you might want to go back and read the first chapter. I'm sorry if you were enjoying the other story, but I think this one will be much better! It has a more solid premise and hopefully I'm starting it with a little more narrative. Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or the characters. I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

"I can't believe I came to this."

Theo scoffed. "And I can't believe you're drinking a _beer,_ here, in a suit."

"I can't believe that he actually wore the suit," Scott said with a chuckle, patting his best friend on the shoulder.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Laugh it up, you ass wipes. It wasn't my idea to agree to come to this swanky party."

"It's not a party, it's a gala," Isaac corrected, taking Stiles' beer and replacing it with a glass of champagne.

"Same difference." Stiles made a face at the flute in his hands. "Tell me, why do these parties only serve champagne? What are we celebrating, how rich these people are?" He chugged the small amount and placed the empty glass on a nearby table, then pouted, "I want my beer back."

Liam shook his head. "Dude, we're here because Peter told us we had to come, you know that."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Like you guys want to be here anymore than I do. You're just more polite about it."

His band mates reacted in their own ways. Theo smiled, knowing this is exactly where he wanted to be: surrounded by rich and successful people free for him to network with. Isaac shrugged, he could have gone either way as long as they weren't the center of attention and got out of there alive. Liam nodded, admitting that Stiles was right but knew they had a job to do.

Scott laughed, knowing his friend was just being his typical dramatic self. Scott was always the level-headed of the group. A born leader, he kept the five very different guys in line and focused on their dream. Scott was the one who suggested he and Stiles start a band in high school. Scott had just learned how to play the guitar and insisted on jam sessions with Stiles playing his keyboard.

Stiles smiled at the memory: ah, the good ole days.

"Peter said these people were important," Scott spoke up, dragging Stiles away from the corner he'd tried to hide himself in and back to the crowd of people. "Investors of the movie, or something. We have to mingle."

"But I don't want to, Scott. I don't _mingle_."

" _That because every time you do you knock over a waiter?_ "

The guys greeted the voice approaching them. Stiles raised his hand at him, "Yes! Thank you, Parrish. My point exactly."

"Don't encourage him, Jordan," Scott insisted, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "He's bad enough on his own without you adding to his paranoia."

Stiles scoffed. "Yeah, tell my paranoia to that boy in the kitchen icing his foot."

"Go easy on him, guys. Adjusting to moving in a suit is hard when it's your first time wearing one," Jordan teased, nudging playfully at Stiles' shoulder.

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Hardy-har-har. Look at the big Hollywood hot-throb picking on us little guys out here just trying to make it. Are we done?"

Scott pulled a retreating Stiles back to the group, "Come on man, you know he's kidding."

"Yeah, Stiles. You know I hate these kind of get-togethers as much as you do," Jordan whispered, looking around to make sure no one important was standing too close.

" _No one_ hates these things as much as I do," Stiles declared.

Jordan chuckled, "I bet I know one person who has us both beat. The entire drive over here my co-star was going on and on about how much she was dreading this night. She drank over half of my flask, can you believe that?"

"You got any more of that?" Stiles asked.

" _Best behavior_ ," Isaac warned. "Peter's instructions. We can't afford another mishap."

Stiles held his hands up in surrender. He knew Peter would have his ass if he did anything stupid. They were supposed to show up, smile for the cameras outside, and shake the hand of anyone who even smelled of money.

It was his fault, really. The band wouldn't have had to try this hard if it wasn't for all his mishaps. They were walking on eggshells because Stiles didn't know how to conduct himself in the most important interviews and parties.

It made him so frustrated. He was in a band because he loved to conduct music and write lyrics. Not because he wanted to sit in front of some snooty interviewer who asked stupid or trick questions that were not meant for his sarcastic and blunt nature.

Alas, that's not the way the world worked. In college, after Scott and Stiles had been playing together for a few years, they met Isaac in a bar and invited him to be their drummer. When a record producer approached them, he had Theo and Liam lined up as additions to the band in an attempt to round out their sound. Theo did backing vocals and lead guitar; Liam played bass and harmonized.

It was rough at first. Stiles and Scott had gone so long running things their own way, writing and creating their own melodies without having to answer to anyone. It took some time for everyone to trust each other. After a long 'getting to know each other' weekend being isolated in a beach house, they emerged with their first single. They each gained some respect for one another's skills.

Thus, the Wild Ones were born and resulted in a strong bond between the guys. Now, they were having their first taste of fame with one album, their first world-tour, and their second number one hit under Peter Hale's entertainment company, Hale Records. Peter, the band's record producer, had tailored them into the perfect band for the media. Stiles had to give him credit there, the man did know how to market.

But Stiles was no puppet, and he had a hard time not butting heads with the alpha. It was Derek Hale, the level headed assistant manager to the band, who was often able to knock some sense into him. He usually had the band's best interests at heart and always fought for the guys when he felt his uncle was being particularly too hard on them.

He owed his band everything and would do anything for them. Even if that meant sipping champagne in a suit at a fancy movie investor party and being on his best behavior. This movie was, after all, supposed to skyrocket their next number one.

Jordan Parrish was the lead male in the movie, playing the prince the mermaid falls in love with. Or something like that. Even though Stiles had written the song they used in the movie, he hadn't wanted to know the full details of the plot. Deaton had questioned his motive until he explained that he just wanted to know what the emotion those final moments were supposed to express were. It would open a much larger avenue for him to explore if he were trying to touch a heartbreak or forgiveness that could be related to anyone watching instead of using just the characters to create his story. Stiles was grateful when Deaton gave him an understanding smile and comment about how he'd made the right decision coming to their band for this project.

The boys had met Jordan at an MTV award after party a few months before being asked to work on the movie. The guy was very friendly and down to Earth; he fit in with the band right away. They were excited to get to work with him.

" _What do you think, Stiles_?"

He shook his head, obviously in his own daydream of thoughts that distracted him from their continued conversation. "Think of what?"

"The music video," Jordan answered. "We just got the call that we're going to meet on Friday to go over storyboard ideas."

Stiles groaned. He'd forgotten about having to shoot a music video. If he were honest, he wasn't very happy about the band recording the song in the first place. It was supposed to be just for the movie, sung by someone else with their name written in the credits to go unnoticed. But no, Peter had to go and decide that it would be their next single since the movie was set to be such a success.

"Why can't it just be scenes from the movie?" Stiles asked. "It worked for the Goo Goo Dolls with that Iris song – why can't we do the same?"

"Wait, which one was that one?" Isaac asked.

"Uh, you know," Stiles' racked his brain to think of the lyrics. "Um it goes like, _and I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am_ –"

Liam held up his hand, "Hold up – that song was written for a movie?"

"Yeah, man," Stiles responded. "A Nick Cage movie, actually. It's hilarious – he's an angel and –"

"Peter says that kind of video is lazy and a lost opportunity," Theo interrupted. He huffed at his fellow band members, pointing to the other side of the room. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to go speak to that wealthy looking person over there and do what we came here to do: schmooze."

Scott gave Liam a look, telling him to go follow so Theo didn't get himself in trouble.

Stiles rolled his eyes at Theo, waving him off as they walked away. "Whatever, man. I'm just not at all excited about working with actors again." Jordan feigned insult. "Besides you, Parrish, of course. We'll probably have to work with your co-star though, won't we? Ugh, I bet she's an awful prima-donna, someone so annoying to work with. Will we have to put an array of cheese out for her highness –"

" _Just brie_."

"Jesus Christ!" Stiles jumped at the sudden voice behind him, catching him off guard. He stepped backwards, unknowingly on the hem of her dress, tripping her. Before she could fall to the ground, he miraculously caught her, holding her in his arms in a dramatic dip a foot off the floor.

He stared down at the stranger's large hazel eyes, red lips parted in surprise. The only thing he could think about was how beautiful the woman in his arms was... and how freakin' lucky he was to have actually caught her.

They seemed to both be at a loss of words, unmoving from their position.

 _*flash*_

A bright light from the window brought them both back, turning in time to see a photographer capture their compromising position.

" _Pull. Me. Up._ " she insisted, gritting the words through her teeth. He did as he was told, trying to help her get back to her feet stably. She looked down at her dress, lifting up the ripped fabric and following the long tear up her leg with her eyes. She growled. "Look what you did. Dammit. I didn't even want to be here tonight."

"Hey, you're the one who snuck up on me," he countered, following the red head as she stormed out of the main hall. "Who even does that?"

She scoffed, turning on him when they made it to the quiet lobby. "I wasn't _sneaking up_ on you. I was approaching the group where Jordan told me to meet up with him. _You_ were the one bad mouthing _me_. It's not my fault you got caught and jumped like a little girl. _Ripping_ my dress, while you're at it."

Stiles scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I am truly sorry about that. Uhm both of those things, actually. If it's any consolation, you berating me like this is definitely making me reconsider my earlier prima-donna comment."

She rolled her eyes. "Excuse me for being annoyed at the asshat who ripped my dress."

"Can I help you fix it?" he asked, trying to help her pull the fabric into a way that would help. Instead, his cufflink nicked the sleeve of her dress, ripping the strap and having it fall down her back, nearly exposing the top of chest before she caught it.

"For the love of-"

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, lifting his hands up in surrender. By now he could feel how red from embarrassment his entire face was.

She sighed, "Would you just please stop?"

"Yes, absolutely. I'm so sorry. What can I do to make this situation not as awkward as I've just made it?"

She considered him and he grew nervous. Tilting her head to the side and pouting out her lips in thought, she pointed at his suit jacked with an _ah-ha_.

"Wait, what are you –" _*rip*_ "Oh, come on!"

"There," she smiled proudly as he looked down at her handy work. "You rip my dress, I rip your jacket. Tit for tat."

"But mine was an _accident_ , you crazy woman!"

"And this is what happens when you mess with a woman's dress."

" _Ac-ci-dent_!"

"Stupidity is what I like to call it!"

 _*flash*_

They both turned just in time for another camera man to run away after snapping another image of the pair. Stiles groaned. He was going to get into so much trouble for this.

The red head covered her face with her hand. "Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have come tonight."

Stiles' brow furrowed at her obviously distraught expression. "Is there any way I can help?"

She held up her hand, taking a step back from him. "You've done enough, thank you. Tell Jordan I left."

And for once in his life, his feet stood still beneath him as he watched her walk away.


	3. Chapter 3: Business Proposition

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Lydia groaned as a loud ring pierced her subconscious awake. Why did people call _this_ early in the morning? Didn't they know Sunday was the day of rest?

She grabbed her phone and answered. "Hello?"

" _Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!"_

Lydia pulled the phone away from her ear, her best friend's voice squealing through the speaker at an octave much too high for this early morning.

"Oh _my_ god, Allison. I swear I'm going to come through this phone and strangle you if you don't stop shrieking."

She heard her friend chuckle on the other end. " _Lydia Martin. I can't believe you met the Wild Ones and you didn't tell me!"_

"I met the who?"

 _"The Wild Ones,_ " she repeated. " _The band, duh."_

Lydia shook her head, finally sitting up in bed. "Allison, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

She could almost hear her best friend roll her eyes at her _. "I've been telling you for months about how much I've been wanting to go to their concert."_

"Oh – uh, you have?" Lydia scrunched up her face at her friend's sigh. "I'm sorry Allison, it's just, you know. You talk about _a lot_ of bands and stuff. It's hard to keep track."

" _You should be able to keep track of the band who wrote the song YOU sing for YOUR movie,_ " Allison countered.

She had a point, Lydia reasoned. It wasn't her fault that she didn't pay much attention to that kind of stuff. She was on set to do a movie, not fangirl over some band she didn't even know. But she knew this wasn't a battle she wanted to have in her current morning state. "Fine, you win. I'm the world's worst actress for not even knowing who wrote the song I sing. Now, what about these wild, uh, people?"

" _My point was: you met them last night and you didn't even tell me!"_ Lydia could hear typing on the other end just before her phone buzzed from a text. " _Check the link I just sent you_."

She moved the phone from her ear, putting her on speaker so she could read the text. The link opened up a TMZ-type online article with the headline ' _Budding romance between Wild One member and recovering actress?_ '. Lydia groaned before she even scrolled down to the picture in the article.

"Oh god," she groaned louder when the image finally loaded.

It was her and the guy from last night. It was the picture they'd caught through the window of her fall. From the angle of the image, it looked more like they'd been dancing and he was dipping her. Except – yep, there it was. The large tear in her dress from where his big stupid foot had stepped on it. She scoffed again, scrolling over to the next image. Somehow, this one looked even more intimate than the last.

She zoomed in on the image. Had she and that guy really been standing _that_ close to each other? There was no way. Photoshop – it had to have been.

She looked closer at the guy, smirking when she saw his dangling ripped pocket on his jacket.

They were looking very intently at each other, obviously from the tension of their argument. But – wait, was he actually _smiling_ at her? It was subtle, but there was definitely a hint of a smile there as he peered down at her. And – holy crap, no. _She_ was smiling at him? It had to have been a sarcastic smile. They must have caught it perfectly. Or photoshop again.

Either way, she couldn't believe her luck. Her first big public appearance since her entrance back into the celebrity-sphere and _this_ is what happens.

 _"Lyyyyydia_ " she heard Allison sing from the phone. Oops, she forgot she was still on the phone with her best friend. " _Did you just die reliving the memory of your budding romance?_ "

"Oh god, shut up," she responded, exasperated. "You know these things are never what they seem. I'll have you know that idiot ripped my dress!"

 _*beep*_

"Allison, I have to go. My mom's calling."

 _"Text me later with the details! I want to know if he ripped your dress before or after the two of you mauled each other in the bathroom!"_

"Oh my gosh you're ridiculous, I can't even with you right now –" Lydia hung up, rolling her eyes at her friend's dramatic antics. She answered her mom's call. "Morning."

" _Good morning, sweetheart! I see you had a good time at the gala last night_ ," Natalie responded.

"It's not my fault –"

" _I'm not scolding you. It happens."_ Lydia was surprised. She figured the minute her mother saw the article she would have her head. _"Do you mind meeting me in an hour? I'll text you the address."_

"So wait – I'm _not_ in trouble?"

 _"Of course not, dear. Just don't be late!"_

* * *

"You want me to _what_?"

Natalie lowered her head, bringing her hand to her forehead and pinching the bridge of her nose. She sighed. "I just want you to think about it –"

"Think about what? You ambushed me! You didn't even tell me why we were coming here. You gave me no time to think about _any_ of this."

"Because I know how you get sometimes when you start overthinking things," her mother explained. "I thought if I put you in the moment you would see how perfect of an opportunity something like this would be for your _career_ and you wouldn't talk yourself out of it. I thought maybe you would take a risk. Come on sweetheart, you may even come to like Stiles."

Lydia's brow creased, "What the hell is a stiles?"

" _I am_."

She spun around to face the familiar voice. It was the guy from last night. Instead of a fancy suit, he was in casual jeans, a plain v-neck shirt, and a worn dark red hoodie. His hair was sticking up in disarray, also a contrast from the comb-over he'd dawned the night before. He looked much more comfortable today – well, as comfortable as one could get in this situation. She scoffed, " _You_?"

Stiles nodded a fake smile, giving her a wave, "Yep, that's me. The one you assaulted last night."

" _I_ assaulted _you_?!" How dare he!

He ignored her and continued. "I'm guessing you were as caught off guard by this whole shebang as I was. Welcome to the club, where we've apparently lost the _entire concept_ ," he said a little louder and more dramatic, gesturing his attention to the two men behind him before bringing it back to her, "of romance and free will."

"So you're not in on this little plan of theirs either?" she asked, a slight wave of ease when she realized she wasn't the only one who was against this.

Stiles shook his head. "Nope. They told me on the drive over here. Apparently I overthink too much for these clowns for them to do the decent thing and tell me about their little diabolical plot with enough of a head start to come up with a proper opinion on the subject."

Lydia shot a quick look to her mother. "We've been set-up. What, were you guys behind the paparazzi last night as well?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Natalie responded. "But we spent the whole morning discussing it and believe that particular incident has presented itself with a rather interesting proposal. Lydia, I'd like you to meet Peter Hale, the band's record producer."

Peter reached out a hand to Lydia and smiled. She shook it, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She'd heard of him and his family's company, Hale Records: one of the top music labels in the United States.

"It's good to meet you, Lydia. Please believe me when I say I am truly a huge fan of your work." Peter turned to the third man in the room. "This is my nephew, Derek Hale. He's something of an apprentice to me. While I am the principal record producer to the band, Derek is their main contact and who you will be working more closely with. He knows these boys like the back of his hand."

Lydia shook the younger man's hand and smiled when Derek greeted her. While still pretty stoic, he had a much warmer aura to him than his uncle.

She looked between her mother and Peter, who were taking a seat around the coffee table in the middle of the meeting space. She pointed between them. "And how did the two of you meet?"

Peter gave a charming smile, "Natalie and I met right after Deaton contracted our boys to the movie. She is quite enchanting, this one."

Lydia rolled her eyes, arms crossed as she watched the exchange. Next to her, she could feel Stiles lean toward her. He whispered, "If we make a break for it now, I think we can make it out of here before the drool over each other hits the floor."

A smile threatened the corner of her lips, but she bit her cheek to stop it. No way she was giving him the satisfaction of knowing she thought he was funny.

Peter glared at Stiles, overhearing what he said. He gestured for them to take a seat. "If we could get started? Excellent. Now that we all know why we're here –"

"Only just," Lydia pipped up, pointedly.

"I called Natalie this morning after your little stunt last night. The media responded so well to the sight of the two of you together, we thought this could be the best move for _both_ of your careers –"

Stiles threw his hands in the air. "How – how – how?! How could this?"

Derek calmly interjected. "You both just worked on the same project. Stiles, you wrote and are about to lead in a song and music video that was written for the movie Lydia is starring in. A movie that just finished shooting and, for the next month, will be promoted the hell out of." He directed his attention back to Stiles, "The Wild Ones just finished their first world-wide tour. You're working on your second album under the label and you're moving toward the forefront of the band with more solos. However, you haven't been in the media that much. And Lydia," he directed toward her again, "you're just getting back into the lime light after such a long hiatus. It would be helpful not to take on the media alone, right? And Stiles, Lydia's reputation could be very beneficial to your climb. Just think about it – the news of a member of one of the top growing bands in the country and the biggest actress in the industry dating? A pairing like this could really heat up both of your celebrity statuses and benefit your image for the better. It'll make you look more relatable, more exciting."

"And we shouldn't care at all that we're _lying_ to everyone in order to gain that status?" Lydia asked plainly.

Natalie shook her head, "You're not _really_ lying. You're just making a business decision – a need-to-know business decision. It'll be like one of your roles: you're just putting on an act for the world –"

"You want us to fake date," Stiles said outright.

"Yes," Peter said sternly, as if it wasn't that big of a deal. "Yes, we do."

Lydia and Stiles looked to each other. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus. Stiles swallowed hard before he stood up and walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 4: Musings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Derek followed Stiles, who'd just stormed out of the meeting room after Peter and Natalie put the proposition of fake dating on the table. Lydia herself stood up and waved her mother off as she walked out the room alone.

Unsuccessful at finding the bathroom, she settled for a secluded corner with a bench and took a seat, trying to slow her mind.

She couldn't believe what her agent – her _mother_ – was asking her to do.

And with _him_ of all people.

Lydia couldn't deny, Stiles was attractive… in a boy-next-door kind of way. And she had to admit, he had the most incredible cheek bones on a man she'd ever seen.

She pushed the thought away and instead concentrated on what Derek had said. _It would be helpful not to take on the media alone, right?_ Who did he think he was to think she _needed_ anyone? She'd done some of the best work of her life in this movie. Before she started filming, she made a very important decision. If she were coming back, she was going to come back full sail and with a bang. She'd already risen to the top of her industry once before without needing anyone to take any kind of heat off her.

Although – _no_. She wouldn't let herself go there. She hadn't dated anyone since her hiatus – and there was a reason for that. She didn't date, not anymore. She wouldn't let her heart get trampled on _again_. This was going to be hard enough as it was, why did everyone in that room think it would help to have _another_ thing the media could judge her on?

Why had her own mother agreed to this? She knew first-hand what Lydia had gone through the last time – she knew what it had cost her. Did she think her talent wasn't enough to get her back on top? That her talent was strong enough to get her where she needed without faking her way there? What could a _boy_ – from a _boy band_ , no less – do for her that her own talent couldn't?

She'd grown tired of people playing games, not believing in her, and using her.

Besides, no one in their right mind would believe that they were dating. She'd have to act her ass off.

 _"He's doing this just to get back at me. He hates me – he always has."_

Lydia froze on her bench, overhearing Stiles' voice on the other side of the wall.

She heard Derek sigh in response. " _You know that's not it. He just wants to help. After these last couple of incidents, this is just his way to try and fix it."_

 _"You think I don't know how shit I am at all this? It's not like I want to put the band at risk… but why is_ this _the answer?"_

Lydia's brow furrowed as she overheard them, curious about what they were talking about and surprised at how sad she felt over how guilt-ridden his voice sounded.

 _"It's not that uncommon, Stiles. Celebrities do this kind of thing all the time. Those Twilight actors, Justin and Britney, don't even get me started on those High School Musical kids."_

 _"Hold on – you mean to tell me that Justin and Britney weren't really in love? Who wears a denim suit for someone they don't love?"_

Lydia rolled her eyes, but she heard Derek chuckle. _"We've seen this kind of thing launch celebrities to new heights. You guys know Peter wants to widen the sound of the band and move you more to the forefront. Equal to Scott, even. But he wants you to succeed. Without the followers to back you up, Peter worries that they won't accept the change."_

There was a pause, and Lydia began to feel uncomfortable listening to something so obviously personal. But she froze when she heard Stiles begin to speak again.

 _"Okay, fine. I guess I get his point there – put someone so successful next to me and associated with our band and the paps come running. But what benefit would it be for her to have someone like_ me _next to_ her _? I'm no asset to her image – if anything I'll just drag her down with me. Why in the world would she ever agree to this?"_

Derek took a deep breath and she felt her hold her own in anticipation for his answer. " _Lydia's return could be more difficult than she thinks. She's talented and tough, and she's been through it all before – but the media can be sharks. She was out for nearly two years. They'll be more ruthless than they were the first time, demanding answers and getting personal. It really couldn't hurt to have someone on her side to take some of the microscope off that and on the present."_

 _Hmm_ , Lydia mused. He made a good point, she hadn't thought about that.

Derek continued. _"You're too hard on yourself sometimes, Stiles. I really think you could help her with that and the two of you could hit it off. It'll be like being friends and just letting the world think there's something more going on. Aren't you attracted to her?"_

She heard Stiles choke. " _Are you kidding me, Derek? She's fucking gorgeous. A spitfire for sure. That girl in there is so far out of my league we're not even playing the same sport."_

Lydia shook her head, blaming the blush deepening her cheeks on the intimate conversation she was eavesdropping on.

 _"You know that's not the problem, Derek. I haven't been with anyone since–"_

 _"Yeah, I know."_

Lydia paused, wondering he meant by that. She shook her head, what did she care about his past, anyhow.

 _"It really won't be that bad as long as you act normal. We'll all be there for you, no matter what,"_ Derek responded sympathetically, offering no more information. She could tell from the sound of his voice that Derek truly meant it.

 _"And now you want me to fake it? Fake it till we make it?"_

 _"Pretty much."_

Lydia decided now was her moment to retreat. She rounded the corner and saw the two guys leaning against the balcony rail. She took the moment to study Stiles from behind.

He was taller than her by nearly a whole head. While he was skinny, she could tell by his back and shoulders that there was more than meets the eye. Her mind began to imagine the tall floppy-headed brunette in a fitted tuxedo escorting her down the red carpet of her movie premier, peering down at her with those warm brown eyes lovingly like she was the only one in the room… _Woah, Lydia. Stop it_ , she chastised herself.

Where the hell had _that_ come from?

She needed to talk to him, without prying eyes and ears.

When she cleared her throat, Stiles jumped in surprise and spun around. " _Jesus_ – stop doing that!"

"Can we have a minute?" Lydia asked. Derek nodded, retreating back into the meeting room to leave the two alone.

Stiles rose his arm to scratch the back of his neck, "You uh – you didn't hear any of that, did you?"

"Only some," she lied, but smiled to ease his worry. "I thought maybe you and I should discuss this, before we go back in there to the wolves." He chuckled at that and she could see him physically calm, though his right leg still twitched as he leaned back against the railing. She decided if they were going to get anywhere, they'd have to at least try to be civil. She decided to start. "I'm Lydia, by the way. Lydia Martin."

Stiles accepted her handshake, "Nice to meet you Lydia Martin. I'm Stiles Stilinski."

There was a pause, neither of them knowing where to go from here.

"This is weird," she finally said.

Stiles let out a breath, his whole body nearly collapsing as he rose his hands up. "So, so weird. Right? I mean, Derek said it's totally normal but in what god forsaken universe is _this_ kind of thing normal? He even said that Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears fake dated just for the press hype. Can you believe that?–I can't. Totally shattered all hope I had for true love out there."

Lydia shook her head, "Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?"

"Oh every day, at least," he smiled.

She bit the inside of her cheek again, stifling the smile threatening. She took a deep breath. "Aren't you at all insulted that your manager thinks you need this to succeed?"

"Completely insulted," Stiles admitted before he shrugged his shoulders. "But, I don't know. I have to think Peter knows what he's doing. He's gotten us this far."

Lydia considered him, not sure if she totally believed his faith in the guy. It almost sounded rehearsed, like it was something he repeated to himself often. She decided not to push it and instead went another route. "Why you?"

"Why me, what?"

"Why do they want _you_ to fake date someone?"

Stiles' head dropped, shrugging. "Oh. I'm not sure. Scott usually leads most of our songs. I either sing back up or melody. Some of the songs on our last album I got to lead, but none of those became singles. We all agreed Scott had the strongest voice, ours all harmonize with it well."

"But they said for the movie-"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Yeah, but's it's because the song works best in a higher tune than Scott's deep voice. That's why your voice works so perfectly with it. Derek said that Peter wants me to lead more of the songs on the next album, but he's worried the fans won't take to me. I'm not exactly the fan favorite."

Lydia actually smiled at that, "I can't imagine why. Do they know you like to tear up ladies' expensive dresses?"

" _Accident_! I don't know how many times I can apologize for that," he groaned. "You got your revenge, I have to go buy another suit jacket now! Ugh, we can't even stand here and talk without bickering... how are we supposed to pretend we like each other?"

Lydia froze, "So wait, you _want_ to agree to this? You've already made up your mind?"

"No! No - no - no," Stiles correctly quickly, his eyes widening at her suggestion. He shook his head. "I just meant, hypothetically. If we decided to say yes, we would have to act like we like each other. And so far, our conversations haven't exactly expelled love."

She sighed, understanding what he meant. This was just all going so fast. She knew jumping back into the game and acting like nothing happened wouldn't exactly be easy. But she thought because she'd done it before, doing it again would be no sweat. She knew the tricks, she knew the game. She'd only ever allowed one interviewer to trip her up, and they were clearly taking advantage of her weak state.

Stiles cleared his throat, "I don't blame you for not wanting to do this. What could _you_ gain from all this?"

Lydia's brow creased as she lilted her head, "And what do you mean by that?"

His eyes widened, obviously realizing how that could have sounded. "Oh, I didn't mean that- I'm sorry. I just mean, you're _you_. Everyone knows you – your work speaks for itself." He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, "Ugh, I said this to Derek way better than I'm doing right now-" Lydia's eyes quickly avoided his, displaying her guilt. Stiles, revealing an innate quickness that surprised her, pointed to her accusingly, "you _did_ hear us talking!"

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, so I did a little."

Stiles surprised her, again, by chuckling. "So then, you already know what I meant by that. And you heard his response?"

Lydia pursed her lips, but nodded, officially confirming her crime. "Derek's right about the media – they _can_ be sharks. I just… I thought if my work was better than before – if I blew them away with my come-back performance – then they wouldn't have anything else to talk about. That they'd get off my back about my personal life and stick to what matters: my talent."

"You don't want them prying into why you took a break." It wasn't a question.

She could feel Stiles reading her, and she was surprised to see a hint of understanding behind his gaze. Her silence confirmed it, and her eyes fell from his, afraid that he was going to ask her why.

But he didn't. Instead he nodded, "And what do you think of what Derek said? That this plan of theirs could help take some of that heat off?"

Despite what she didn't want to admit, she knew Derek was right. She'd dated in the public eye before, and though he wasn't necessarily a celebrity, he had been well enough known to co-star in many interviews and tabloids Lydia featured in during her heyday. Jackson was charming and beautiful and the perfect arm candy during any formal event. And though she'd been initially attracted to him because of his status and benefits, she'd grown to love him with so much of her heart that he'd shattered it when he left her. When he'd said the things he had, she laid the ground work for the ten foot all she'd built around herself.

Now she was looking at this guy in front of her, who'd literally knocked her off her feet, ripped her dress, and had a sharp enough tongue to match her own. And yet she felt a strange calm and familiarity when she was with him. He didn't intimidate her – he didn't make her feel like she needed to be the actress.

Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she did overthink everything and didn't take enough risks. Maybe – and this was a big maybe – they could even be friends one day.

"I think Derek is right," she finally answered, straightening her back and lifting her chin. "I need the bulls eye on my back shifted and you need some street credibility. I guess we could at least see what they have planned for us in there?"


	5. Chapter 5: The Decision

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Enjoy!**

* * *

Stiles' mouth had been hung open for an achingly long fifteen seconds. Lydia's head was starting to tilt as she considered him. But he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

Lydia Martin – _the_ Lydia Martin – just agreed to publicly date him. _HIM_.

After the mishap at the gala, Stiles had returned to Scott and Parrish, the look of frazzled bewilderment painted over his face at the fiery woman who'd just stormed away from him. Scott had groaned at his ripped jacket, thinking he'd done another clumsy thing to ruin his only formal blazer. When Stiles explained what happened, Jordan could only laugh, recounting how he shouldn't take it too personally. Stiles just had the pleasure of being Lydia Martin's victim of the night, as if Stiles should be considering himself lucky.

Stiles left soon after that, now having a more plausible excuse for his exit. Laying in bed, his mind kept replaying the events of the night. It was past 3am when he finally let out a deep breath. He gave into his resolve, reaching for his phone off the nightstand, pulling up the internet and typing in Lydia's name in the search box.

His eyes widened: over two million results. Everything he could ever want to know about his mystery woman was neatly assembled right on the devise in front of him. There she was: hundreds of pictures of her began to fill up his screen in organized boxes. Snapshots of her posing on the red carpet in extravagant ball gowns. Candids of her on the street, waving and giving a kind smile to the paparazzi. There were shots of her speaking on panels, gifs and screenshots of her acting roles, and promotional shots dating back ten or so years.

She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. But there was something different about the woman he met tonight from the translucent two-dimensional Lydia on his screen. Before him, she seemed so young, so happy. The flesh and blood Lydia from that night seemed removed. Like him, he knew she hadn't wanted to be there – that much was obvious. But it was something more than that, and he wondered if it had something to do with the fact that her last appearance had been around two years ago.

He clicked into her filmography and gaped at how many movies she'd done. Movies Stiles had seen – movies Stiles had loved – but never even put two and two together.

Lydia Martin was a star. And he'd ripped her dress.

The next morning he woke up anew, all thought of Lydia and what happened the night before chalked up to a lucid dream.

He shook the thought away as he started up his jeep, his mind focusing on the familiar drive. He parked and walked into the diner, heading straight for the booth in the back.

"Long night?" the man sitting across from him asked, sliding a mug of coffee toward him.

Stiles shrugged, accepting the coffee happily. "'Morning to you too, dad."

Noah chuckled, knowing all too well Stiles' insomnia tendencies. The waitress brought over their breakfasts, saying good morning to Stiles before giving his dad a wink as she walked back to the kitchen.

This was their ritual since Stiles went to college. As long as Stiles was in town, him and his dad would meet at this diner Saturday mornings, eat breakfast, and catch each other up on what was happening in their lives. They were regulars, the owner and waitresses watched his rise to fame and cheered for him along the way.

Stiles frowned at his father's meal, moving half of his dad's bacon to his own plate and replacing it with his extra fruit. His dad huffed, but stabbed the cantaloupe with his fork anyway and ate. It was the same dance every weekend, making sure his dad wasn't sustaining just on grease and fat alone.

"So, Sheriff," the waitress, Judy, started as she stopped by to refill their mugs, "Why didn't you tell us our boy here had a lady friend?" Both gentlemen whipped their heads toward the older woman, who laughed at their reaction. She pulled out the newspaper folded under her arm and laid it on the table for them to see. "You made the front page, sweetie."

Stiles grabbed the paper first and stared at the image in ink. Judy was right: there he was, with _her_. The headline was a query of budding romance and Stiles nearly laughed, oh if they'd only knew.

"She's pretty, son." His dad mused, pulling the newspaper toward him so he could take a better look. "You could do worse."

He rolled his eyes, "She's not my 'lady' friend. Look, see there?" Stiles pointed on the paper at his jacket. "She tore my jacket pocket clean off."

His dad tried to disguise his laugh behind a cough, covering his mouth to hide his smile as he took a better look at the picture.

Judy laughed loudly, patting him on the shoulder as she turned to tend to other customers, muttering something about needing to meet this girl.

"It's not funny!" Stiles gestured his hands in the air. "Now I have to go buy a new blazer."

Noah shook his head, still smiling at his son. "Yeah, and what exactly did you do to inflict such a thing? If I know you, kid, I know things like this just don't _happen_ to you."

He sank back in the booth, stabbing at his eggs begrudgingly. "It wasn't my fault. She startled me - everyone knows I'm jumpy, especially when you sneak up on me! I _may_ have accidentally stepped on her dress and tripped her. Then she ripped me a new one, on top of the jacket pocket. That's when the paps snapped this lovely image."

His dad looked down at the image again. "That's not what _this_ looks like, son."

Stiles shrugged, "You know how the tabloids are. It's probably photoshopped anyway."

"Who is she? Did you just meet her last night?"

"Yep. Was a great first impression. She's an actress; pretty famous, actually. She's starring in the movie we wrote the song for, the one releasing soon."

His dad smiled at that. It always took him back a little, the pride his father had for him. He was the one who took him to his first piano lesson when he was a kid. He'd take turns with Scott's mom when Mellissa had the night shift. He was his number one fan and biggest support system. There's no way Stiles or the band would be where they were now if it hadn't been for the man in front of him.

Stiles felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a message from Derek, asking to meet him at the studio in ten. He paid, said goodbye to his father, told him to be careful out there, and set up dinner plans for later that week.

The whole drive to the station, Stiles worried that Peter was pissed about the tabloid. That maybe someone at the party complained about the commotion he caused or the bad press. Or maybe even Lydia herself had complained to his manager or the director, and now he was going to have to pay.

His wildest thoughts couldn't have prepared him for what Derek and Peter were proposing to him. To date the actress, to use the media and beat them at their own game.

" _Stiles?_ "

He jumped slightly, his thoughts returning back to the present. Where were they? Oh yeah, she'd just asked if he wanted to date her. "Wha – uh, sorry. My brain didn't quite comprehend."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Well, what do you think?"

She shivered, and without thinking Stiles shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her. She looked surprised at his offer and for a minute he thought she was going to decline. But another shiver and she decided to grab it, and Stiles was finally beginning to feel the icy wall she seemed to put up around her slowly begin to chip away.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the railing. "I think I'd need to talk to the guys about it, first."

Her brow creased, surprised at this response as she pulled the jacket around her. "Really? You need your friends to tell you whether or not you should fake date someone?"

Stiles rubbed his forehead, "Not like that. I just think that if this is supposed to be for the band, then they should also have a say. If this goes south, it's not just my reputation on the line."

He could tell Lydia was considering him, her thumb was rubbing her bottom lip and Stiles suddenly had a vision of what it would be like to run his thumb across her lips, of her biting his thumb... _woah._ Stiles shook his head, chastising his thoughts for going in such an inappropriate direction in the middle of such a serious discussion. It was her in his hoodie, he told himself.

She didn't seem to notice, and instead hummed an agreeable tune. "Okay. Let's do that, then. Do you think now would be a good time for us to talk to them?"

He flinched. "Us?"

"Yep," she said pointedly. "You're right. I mean, if we started dating, I wouldn't just be dating you. I'd be spending a lot of time with the band. That's the point, right? They need to know me, trust me. Same way we need to trust each other."

Stiles' chest clinched. She was right, if they were going to do this, there would need to be a certain amount of give and take, of understanding and trust between each other.

"We'll have to be friends," she said plainly, a jestful scoff escaping her throat. He smirked, understanding the irony behind her words. "Think we could do that?"

They walked back into the meeting room, closing the door behind them. Peter beamed at them, not missing the fact that Lydia was wearing Stiles' hoodie.

"Look at that," Peter purred, "you're looking like a couple already. Am I correct in assuming this little exchange means you will accept the offer?"

Stiles looked down at Lydia, who lifted her chin as she pointed her finger. "We have a condition before we decide anything. We want to talk to the band about it."

Peter's face fell, his wolf grin turning into a scowl as he shot a look to Derek. "I don't believe that's the best idea, Miss Martin." Lydia rose an eye brow, questioning him. "It's just, this business transaction is a very delicate thing. We did our homework on this scenario, and the number one way this kind of thing falls apart-"

"Besides it being a big fat lie?" Stiles interrupted.

Peter sighed. "Well, yes. Too many people find out, then the media catches wind, and then a big break up gets concocted in order to save face, but ultimately ruins the mission. I believe it has to stay a secret. From Scott, from the band, from your family-"

"Unacceptable."

Everyone turned to look at Lydia. She stood tall, despite her being shorter than all of them there, her hands balled into fists clenched at her side. Peter's eyes narrowed at the redhead, urging her to try him. She didn't budge.

"Stiles made a good point out there. If this is supposed to be for the band as much as it's for me, it's only fair that the band knows what they're getting into. It's not just our reputations on the line." She took a step forward. "And I get to tell one person. Keeping a secret like this and not being able to talk to anyone about it isn't healthy. Putting our cingulate cortex in jeopardy secretes copious amounts of stress hormones like norepinephrine that affect parts of the brain where attention and responses are controlled. Which, surprise, do not bode well for performers like us." Lydia shrugged, "This is nonnegotiable."

Stiles, Peter, and Derek gaped at Lydia. If Stiles had been paying any attention to anyone but Lydia, he would have noticed the little smirk on her mother's lips.

Stiles couldn't take his eyes away from Lydia. She was so unsuspecting – though he should have pieced it together easily. You don't get to have the kind of career Lydia Martin had without being intelligent and bold. He found himself admiring how she handled the room and herself, thinking back to all his interviews and events where he made a fool of himself.

Peter looked to Derek, then nodded. Through gritted teeth, he flashed his fake smile at Lydia and stood up. "Well, it's hard to argue with that. But choose your one person well, my dear."


	6. Chapter 6: Meeting the Pack

Lydia felt giddy as they left the meeting room. Her boost in confidence stemming from her victory over Peter in getting him to agree to letting them tell a few people about the deal. It always made her pride swell to see how stunned people got when she let on exactly how smart she was. Not that she thought she'd been braggy about it - though she did use a big word or two more than she probably could have.

In another life, Lydia had been a pro at making people speechless just by walking into a room. And while that feeling was definitely a power she enjoyed from time to time, it was _this_ kind of power that gave her the most joy: making people speechless with her brain.

People just didn't expect it. And man, did she know how to exploit that.

She nearly let a smile slip when her eyes finally landed on Stiles. He was almost adorable, with his mouth agape and stars in his eyes. And she thought she even spied a hint of admiration behind his gaze, but she couldn't be sure. Instead, she smiled innocently at the sound of her victory.

Stiles got to tell the band, and Lydia was able to tell one other person. She immediately thought of Allison.

One phone call later, and Derek was able to report that the rest of the Wild Ones were already at the studio, and they would wait there until the rest of them returned for the news. Natalie was the only member of the group who couldn't join, she had another meeting she had to get to.

Since Lydia drove separate and Stiles had arrived with Derek and Peter, Stiles offered to ride with Lydia to show her how to get to the studio.

As Lydia was walking to her car, she was acutely aware that Stiles was right behind her. Riding in a car with one other person always had a strange, intimate feeling; being stuck in close quarters with no way of getting out. Like being alone with someone in an elevator.

"Do you mind if I call my friend Allison on the drive?" she asked, buckling her seat belt as she started up the car.

Stiles shook his head, "Not at all. When you pull out of the garage, go right, and then left at the light. I'll point when you need to turn again."

She thanked him, then typed out the address in a text. She pressed send, then dialed the number, putting her friend on speaker so she could start the drive.

" _Did you just text me?_ " Allison said immediately, answering the call.

"I did," Lydia responded, pulling out of her parking spot and heading down the garage. "Very astute of you, Allison."

" _Ugh, you're using words like astute. You must have something big on your mind._ "

Stiles chuckled, covering his mouth so he wouldn't make any noise. Lydia rolled her eyes. "I do. Listen –"

" _Are you thinking about the tabloid?"_ Lydia froze, she could feel her hands start to sweat. " _Don't sweat it, Lyds."_ Her hands tensed at the mention of things sweating, and she desperately wished she'd turned on the car air condentioning. _"Next week they'll be talking about you and a Jonas brother. Or Jordan - you know how much press on- and off-screen romances get._ "

Lydia's grip tightened as she turned right out of the garage, avoiding Stiles as much as she possibly could. "Oh my god, Allison, you know nothing off-screen happened with Parrish-"

 _"Psh yeah, but he wishes. Poor guy, you know he holds a torch for you."_

"We're just friends," Lydia pushed, stopping at the red light and throwing her blinker on. "Now shut up for a second so I can tell you why I called and what my text means."

Allison's dramatic huff filled the speakers of the car. " _Alright, Miss Cranky Pants. What did you send me anyway? An address?"_

"Yeah. Are you busy right now? Do you think you could meet me there ASAP?"

 _"Do you need to be picked up?"_

Stiles pointed left at the next light and Lydia moved over. "No, I'm actually heading there now. It's um - and don't get all fan girl freak out over this, okay? It's the Wild Ones' studio."

There was a pause. Lydia looked over to Stiles who only shrugged, then pointed straight.

"Allison?" Lydia asked after a few more seconds. "You there?"

 _"Bull shit."_ Allison said, her frankness causing Lydia to chuckle.

Lydia stopped at the red light, then rubbed her forehead. "I just need you to meet me there, please. I'll explain everything when you get there, okay?"

Allison hummed in considerations, _"Mmm fine. I can be there in 20. Just uh, try to keep yourself from falling all over Stilinski again. At least, that's what social media says happened."_ She ended the call with a laugh.

Lydia's mouth remained open at her last comment, her hands growing hotter around the wheel. Only her eyes moved to look at Stiles, who had his eye brows raised and hand over his mouth, staring straight at her trying not to laugh. She closed her eyes, a deep sigh making her body slouch. "Don't make me regret this."

He shook his head, moving his hand from his mouth into the air as he shook it in defense. "Hey, she's _your_ friend. I just can't wait to meet her."

She huffed, knowing he was right.

"Light's uh – light's green," he chuckled, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. Stiles opened his mouth to make a comment, but closed it quickly and shook his head when she shot him a 'try me' look.

Lydia's foot pressed the accelerate as she went straight through the light. "So, _that_ was Allison."

"Should we warn the guys that she's, as you so eloquently put it, a 'super fan girl freak'?" he asked.

If Lydia hadn't been giving most of her visual attention to the asshat truck in front of her who was going painstakingly slow and was going to make her miss the green light ahead, she would have noticed the way that his cheeks turned a slight pink color as her words left his lips. Like simply thinking such a thing was ridiculous enough to make him embarrassed.

"I didn't say _super_ ," Lydia corrected, but the corner of her mouth lifted, nonetheless. "She's perfectly safe. Trust me, she's no stranger to celebrities."

Stiles scoffed, "Well being your best friend, and all, I wouldn't expect anything less."

Lydia rolled her eyes, "It's not just that. She sort of grew up in this world – she's way more accustomed to it than even I am. But she still succumbs to the occasional shriek session when her best friend meets the band she's apparently been wanting to see forever – which is what I got to experience this morning," Lydia recalled, her mind venturing back to just that morning. Funny how it seemed so long ago now.

But that was, however, before her entire world had been thrown upside down.

She wasn't being dramatic, she chastised herself internally for that comment. And even if she was, she was an actor. No one would hold it against her.

"Well, that's kind of flattering… in a weird way, I guess," Stiles said with a shrug. She could tell he half meant it. Anyone else would probably think the other half of him was being rude; but in a kindred kind of way, she understood. As if reading her mind, she could tell he was just realizing how he must have sounded, because his mouth was opening into a shape that signified he needed to explain himself right away for making a rude comment about her best friend.

Lydia chuckled, shaking him off. "I get it. What I don't get is how she can be into such a –"

"Right –"

"—boyband." Lydia finished just as he gave her his next instruction.

"What – _boyband?!"_ Stiles exclaimed, as if she'd just given him the most diabolical insult she could possibly inflict on his poor unfortunate soul.

Though it was close, it wasn't the _most_ diabolical insult. That was reserved for crimes against Roscoe.

Lydia lifted her right perfectly plucked eye brow. "Well, yeah. You are a group of boys –"

"Men," Stiles corrected. "More or less."

"—and you're in a band."

Stiles, whose mouth hadn't fully made its way back into a permanent closed position (though if you asked his father, his mouth had _never_ made its way back into a permanent closed position since he began wailing the moment he was born), shook his head. "But we're not a _boyband_. Despite how much I attested to my earlier heartbreak over Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears' fake relationship, it's not like we're NSYNC –"

Lydia scoffed, "You wish you were NSYNC. Then I would have actually heard of you."

"That's cold, Martin," Stiles replied as he pointed at the building ahead and gestured toward the parking garage, handing her his key code to get it at the gate. "Even if that were true – it's not like we've got synchronized dance moves we perform at our shows or anything like that. We play real instruments and write our own music."

"Is that what you do?" Lydia asked, handing the guard the key and moving forward when the gate opened. "Write the music?"

She recalled the way he talked about _Unleashed_ , the song they did for her movie, and made a mental note to ask him more about it later. The lyrics were beautiful and heartfelt, and a part of her was trying to figure out exactly what his role in the process of making such a lovely song.

There was an awkward pause as she parked the car. Like Stiles was trying very hard to figure out a correct answer to her question.

If she could read his thoughts, she would understand that this had been a question he'd failed at answering many times in interviews. His sarcastic nature would answer 'no, we actually buy a book of Mad Libs, get drunk off our asses, and go as wild as our name implies until a hit is made!'

That one got him in a _lot_ of trouble with Peter.

He finally shrugged and went with a simple, "It's a group effort."

"Well, that sounds practiced," Lydia guessed, correctly. It gained a chuckle from Stiles as they both got out of the car. If only she knew how right she was.

She let him lead the way to the elevator, and she started getting nervous.

It was an unusual feeling for her, getting nervous. She had to remind herself that this was a business agreement, and his band mates were just part of that. She was an actress, she had fake relationships all the time on screen! She lost count of the amount of guys and girls she had to make out with in front of a camera. And the more intimate scenes she had to film – don't even get her started. Why was this particular set-up so difficult for her to wrap her head around?

As they walked through the building, she already knew her answer. This wasn't some typical movie contract; she couldn't go home for the day and turn it off. She wasn't some character falling in love with another character in hopes of progressing the plot of the story she was trying to tell. This was Lydia Martin - her real name out in the real press going on real dates with her real-fake boyfriend. She figured their contract would account for face time at concerts, premieres, sets, parties – some kind of public appearance to solidify their relationship as authentic. She couldn't just hide away at home when she wasn't at work, or spend her weekends off huddled up with Allison watching the Notebook and chugging chocolate mint ice cream. She was going to have to make friends with his band mates, his friends - or at least pretend to.

What if she didn't like his friends?

What if they didn't like her?

She was going to have to stretch out of her comfort zone... and act happy about it.

There was a lot to be nervous about.

"Hey."

Her head shot up to look at him as they stepped out of the elevator when she felt his arm shrug hers. She hadn't even realized they'd stopped walking and were standing in front of a door with a key code door lock. He gave her a quick smile, whether it was to reassure her or himself, she wasn't sure.

He took a deep breath. "Ready?"

She rose her brow again, "Why do you make it sound so daunting?"

His smile turned mischievous as a chuckle left his lungs. "You're about to enter the wolf's den, Lydia. Brace yourself."

She rolled her eyes in spite of herself as he typed in his code. They walked into the waiting room where Stiles greeted the receptionist, giving her Lydia's name and letting her know that they would be expecting a woman named Allison soon and to let her in when she got there.

If she were letting herself be impressed with Stiles – which, she wasn't, in case anyone was keeping track – she would have found the way he seemed to effortlessly charm the receptionist with his wit and naturally good-natured charisma quite cute.

" _Stiles!_ "

"Braeden!" Stiles threw his arms around the woman who greeted them at the door. "Braeden, this is Lydia Martin. Lydia, this is Braeden, Derek's girlfriend. She pretty much runs the studio-"

"Uh, I think you mean fiancé?" Lydia asked, pointing to the ring on Braeden's left hand as she reached out to shake the woman's right.

Stiles groaned, throwing his head back, "Ughh, right. Sorry! I'm still getting used to saying that."

"It's okay," Braeden waved Stiles off, turning her attention back to Lydia.

She noticed a couple scarred lines across her neck and jawline, like she'd gotten into a fight with an animal. It didn't detract from her beauty, Lydia noted – in fact it made her look not to be messed with. Braeden stood proudly and Lydia knew this was a woman who could hold her own and felt quite safe in her company. An even match for the man she'd met earlier.

Braeden smiled, "Welcome to our studio, Lydia. I've heard a lot about you in the last 12 hours. Derek just called and asked me to round everyone up. Please, Lydia, make yourself comfortable and let me know if you need anything at all. Oh, and uh don't let those guys scare you – they're really just a bunch of sweethearts."

And with that, she left. Lydia smiled, appreciating the professionalism.

Stiles gave her an encouraging smile before he opened the studio door.

" _I'm just saying, according to all the qualifications you just laid out, Gremlins totally counts as a Monster Movie."_

 _"Gremlins?! You've got to be kidding me, Liam. That can't be your favorite Monster Movie –"_

 _"—we are NOT adding it to our movie marathon –"_

 _"—it's not even Christmas! –"_

 _"—classics only! –"_

"Uh, hey guys!" Stiles shouted at the doorway.

"Stiles! Finally –" one of the members shouted, throwing a pillow at the guy who was trying to include Gremlins in their monster movie marathon. "Please tell this half-brain – oh, hello there." He pushed Stiles to the side as soon as Lydia came into view. She knew that look, and had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. She had to admit, the guy was very good looking, in a classically handsome kind of way that probably got him anything he wanted – which only made her want to roll her eyes even more. He reached out his hand, "I'm Theo Raeken. You're Lydia Martin, right?"

"I am," she pushed her mouth together in a forced smile as she reached out and shook Theo's hand.

"Like the actress?" the Gremlins guy – uh, Liam, they called him? – asked, throwing the pillow back on the couch as he stood up.

Lydia waved, "That's me."

"Like the girl who ripped Stiles' jacket?" the curly haired guy asked, standing up to greet them at the door.

She genuinely smiled at that, peeking over at Stiles who currently had his hand over his face. "Guilty."

" _Anyway_ ," Stiles waved his hand, jumping between Lydia and the rest of the guys. He started pointing toward each of them, "Lydia this is Scott, Isaac, Liam, and you met Theo."

The one with the strong jaw and tattoo on his arm – Scott, Stiles had said – stepped forward and offered his hand. Lydia smiled, accepting his handshake. "Nice to meet you Lydia, we're huge fans. What brings you here… with Stiles… in his jacket?"

Lydia's head shot down, realizing she'd forgotten to return the jacket. She felt her face heat up.

"We, uh, had an earlier meeting and she got cold, so I just lent it to her," Stiles answered, scratching the back of his neck as he talked just a little too fast.

Scott's brow creased as he looked between the two of them, but nodded, believing them. "What did you meet about? The song?"

"Actually, we're supposed to wait until—"

" _Right this way, Miss Argent."_

Allison and Braeden walked through the door, and the first thing Lydia noticed was Allison's eyes. They were wider than she'd ever seen them.

"Allison," Lydia greeted, "this is –"

"I know who they are," Allison interrupted, pushing her arm through Lydia's and giving it an extra hard squeeze.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Guys, this is Allison. She's my best friend."

The guys waved, except Scott. Like he'd done with Lydia, he stepped forward and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Allison. You look really familiar, are you an actress too?"

Allison laughed, "Uh, well. I was briefly, but that was a long time ago –"

"Anything we would have seen?" Isaac asked.

Allison and Lydia shared a look before Allison started laughing, "Um, maybe? It was a little teenie-bop movie called The Banshees. Lydia and I were both in it –"

"Oh my god," Scott's eyes widened. "You were Hailey!"

"Wait," Stiles shook his head. "Was that the movie about the girl band who won their talent show? From when we were like 13 years old? The one you were obsessed with –"

Scott's mouth dropped, "What – I – no! I wasn't _obsessed_ with – shut up, it was a good movie!"

"Oh god," Lydia's head fell into her hand, her cheeks burning with embarrassment like they normally did when someone mentioned the very first movie she'd ever acted in.

"Yeah, well, it was my first and last experience as an actress," Allison said, a slight blush coating her cheeks.

"Hold on," Stiles pipped up, turning his direction toward Lydia. "You were _just_ giving me shit for being in a boy band, and here I find out you were in a _girl_ band in middle school?"

Lydia finally lifted her head, scrunching her face in defense. "I can't believe anyone even remembers that."

"Oh yeah," Scott said, excitedly. "I'm pretty sure Hailey was my first tv crush," Scott admitted, quite shyly, Lydia noticed.

Isaac cleared his throat, "So, uh – if you guys aren't here to talk about the music video or what happened last night at the gala, what _are_ you doing here?"

Allison looked to Lydia, the same question glaring through her eyes as she waited for an answer. Lydia and Stiles exchanged an awkward look, trying to figure out what exactly they should say.

Lydia was the first to finally speak. "Well, we're supposed to wait until Peter and Derek get here –"

"We're gonna start dating!"


	7. Chapter 7: The Contract

Stiles could feel Lydia's body shrink as her head fell into her hand. His mouth hung open as he waited for the five other bodies in the room to comprehend what he was saying.

Then, they all came at them at once.

"You're –"

"What? –"

"No –"

"When? –"

" _How?_ –"

The last one was Theo, whose eyes hadn't stopped moving between Stiles and Lydia since his announcement.

Out of everyone in the group, Stiles and Theo still had the most animosity toward each other. He'd been thrown into the group, and unlike Liam who'd done everything he could to become a part of something, Theo always had his own agenda.

When Peter had first brought him in, Stiles immediately distrusted him. But Theo was charming and Scott was an optimist. Stiles seemed to be the only person to see through the charm and name it for what it truly was: manipulation.

He'd almost even gotten between him and Scott once.

When it became obvious that Scott had the strongest voice and was going to be their front man, it was inevitable that Stiles would be second in command. He was cofounder of the band, wrote a majority of their songs, and his piano and keyboard playing skills were not to be messed with.

So, Theo began to play his game, planting seeds of mistrust and second guessing between the two best friends.

Then came the accident.

There was a hostage situation at a bank. Sheriff Stilinski shot the robber in the leg, which left enough time for the Deputy to disarm the guy and lead the hostages to safety. But Stilinski hadn't gone unscathed.

A bullet made its way into his shoulder, and a part of it splintered off into his chest. They were just about to take him into surgery when Melissa called Stiles.

He tried to get into the jeep's driver's seat when Scott stopped him. Stiles tried to throw a punch, the anger from everything that'd been going on bubbling to the surface. Scott shouted at him to get into the passenger's seat and that he was in no state to drive all the way to Beacon Hills.

They stayed in the hospital all through the night. The surgery was a success and they found the splintered piece before it could do any serious damage.

A couple days later, Stiles and Scott made the drive back to their apartment. An awkward silence was broken with Stiles thanking Scott for driving him, and then apologizing for trying to punch him.

Eventually, they began to talk more, and realized they'd been hearing two different sides of the same story. With a little digging, they realized the common denominator in their deceit.

Once they got back to the studio, Stiles confronted Theo and finally told him the way it was going to be. That he wasn't going to let Theo infect their band with his malice intentions. Scott was quick to back him up, adding that if Theo ever tried any of this kind of shit again, he'd have him kicked out of this band and never working in this industry again.

The second part was an empty threat, but Theo seemed to buy it. And with that, he'd grown a little respect for all the bandmates.

And it didn't hurt that after their first successful hit, the press had bestowed upon him the reputation as the bad boy of the group, "the hot one" as he liked to say. Stiles usually added the air quotes to his proclaimed moniker.

However, Stiles mustered that out of all the guys in the group, Theo would probably be the one most butthurt over not being chosen to date a movie star.

Fake date.

That's right, he remembered. It wasn't real. And he was reminded of this as Lydia began to explain that it wasn't what they thought when the studio door opened.

"Thanks, Braeden," Peter grinned perfectly at the raven-haired manager. "I appreciate you finishing up these contracts so quickly."

Everyone turned toward Peter and Derek as they entered. Everyone but Scott, who was still staring at Stiles with a furrowed brow. Stiles tilted his head in question at his friend, trying to decide if the look was one of confusion like the other's had, or worry. Something told him it was the latter, but he shook it off and turned back toward his manager.

"Welcome, everyone!" Peter began gesturing for them all to take a seat at the large round table in the corner of the room. Stiles couldn't sit, he was too worked up to be still and instead found himself standing around Lydia's chair. "I trust we've all been introduced? Perfect. I'm sure you're wondering why you're all here –"

"Stiles already let it slip," Isaac interrupted, chuckling. "These two are hooking up."

"Wait – woah!" Stiles shouted, waving his hands in the air at the accusation. "I didn't say that – that's not what I –"

It was useless, he thought as he groaned and ran his hands down his face. He and his big stupid mouth.

"We actually prefer to call this a relationship agreement," Derek pipped up, saving Stiles from further foot-in-mouth disease. "An arranged romantic partnership that will be mutually beneficial for both Stiles' and Lydia's careers."

Stiles snorted. "They want us to fake date," he said bluntly, rolling his eyes at Derek's overly complicated phrasing.

"You two?" Theo asked, the same unbelieving and annoyed look still painted across his face at the further development.

Scott ignored his jealous bandmate and moved on to a more notable question. "How did this happen?"

"Apparently those photos of us from the gala last night made some waves," Lydia answered, rolling her eyes.

Peter grinned, "And Lydia's manager and I were quick to catch it. We've been working all morning on this plan and think this relationship would be perfect to take public."

"I thought you said we shouldn't date publicly?" Isaac asked, a little bitterness biting at the question. "I believe your exact words were 'it would tarnish our sex appeal and repel our intended fanbase'."

Stile's eyebrows shot up to Isaac's words as they all looked to Peter. Isaac wasn't wrong, that was nearly word for word what Peter had told the guys when they were first making it big – save a few more-than-crude words and adjectives that were used to describe said fanbase. Stiles was just impressed that this time it wasn't him calling Peter out on something.

But of course, Isaac had cause to be annoyed, since he was the only member of the group who actually had a girlfriend. It was her, in fact, who had introduced them to Derek, her brother, in the first place, who eventually got them signed on to the label.

Peter cleared his throat at the reminder of his own words. "It's a plan. We've got it all worked out –"

"What exactly does the mutual benefits part mean?" Liam asked. "Is that like a friends-with-benefits kind of thing?"

Stiles felt his hand fly against his face again as the youngest member of their group asked his follow-up question. He was dangerously close to dying of secondhand embarrassment.

"As we explained to Lydia and Stiles earlier," Derek began, "this type of deal is actually quite common in our industry. Pairing people together based on how the public reacts and playing off of that. Not only has that already happened accidentally, but you guys all just worked on the same project and you've got the music video to look forward to. And this won't just be beneficial for Lydia and Stiles -"

"What do you mean?" Scott finally spoke.

Derek smiled, "The band. You guys are just beginning to gain some momentum, especially after this tour and this upcoming movie single. Imagine the press, Lydia Martin and The Wild Ones. Being paired with a big-time movie star will get you in more headlines, for sure."

Stiles looked down at the red-head and noticed her cheeks were flushed at Derek's reference to her stardom.

"And what about Lydia?" Allison's brow now matched Scott's skeptical one. "She's just supposed to be some trophy girlfriend for one of your precious band members?"

Stiles chuckled, reveling in the protective way Lydia's friend was standing up for her. She immediately reminded him of Scott and knew the two would get along just fine if they were to ever agree to this deal.

Peter also chuckled (his feeling more demeaning than Stiles'), as he shook his head. "You have it all wrong, Ms. Argent. We meant it when we said mutual benefits. Lydia's been away for a while," he said, slightly more condescending than Stiles would have liked to hear, and for some reason it immediately upset him. "She's going to be everywhere with the promotion of this new movie, and everyone will be prying into her personal life. That's where Stiles and the band can come in – they're perfect distractions and she won't have to take on the media alone. We've got it all worked out – concerts, press releases, premieres, even a social media strategy. A nice, attractive relationship guaranteed to help you both gain in popularity, all tied together in this easy contract."

"A contract?" Theo asked as Derek began passing them out to the group.

"Of course. This is a business agreement," Peter replied simply. "There's two parts to this contract, one for the two involved in the relationship, and another for all members who know about the relationship, as well as an NDA for all of us. Lydia's manager and I have drawn up the contract and settled on this version. It states, in so many words, that Stiles and Lydia will date under the following conditions.

"First, you will be exclusive. This is a move to benefit you both in a positive way. We don't want any infidelity scandals to arise from either party. It makes one of you look like the bad person and the other one the victim – and no one likes those people.

"Two, you will be obligated to a few public mating rituals, so to speak. Places and situations the media is sure to catch you in. We eventually want pictures of the two of you kissing on the cover of every magazine in the grocery check-out line. And I wasn't kidding about the social media strategy – you will be obligated to follow each other on social media, as well as genuinely interact and eventually feature each other in cute couple ways when the time is right. And there will be official public appearances. Stiles will attend cast member parties as Lydia's date; Lydia will attend concerts and band after parties. You get the picture. As the relationship's party," he looked to the bandmates and Allison, "you will also be expected to interact with each other and attend some of these events. Your expectations will be less scheduled, however.

"Third, and most important… it has to be a secret. As of right now, only us in this room, Braeden, and Natalie know of this arrangement. And signing these contracts guarantees that we all legally agree to this secrecy and the consequences of its reveal."

Derek cleared his throat, "Stiles, Peter and I discussed this on the drive over and we came to the agreement that because Lydia's manager also happens to be her mother, it's only fair that we offer you the chance to tell your father –"

"No!" Stiles answered quickly, shaking his head at even the idea of telling his father he was agreeing to this. "I don't want to deal with that – it's easier if he didn't know."

He could feel Lydia's eyes looking at him, questioning his decision. But she was pulled back toward Peter when he began to mutter happily that he didn't need to go through this again and get another contract written up.

"What if something goes wrong?" Lydia finally asked. She'd stayed quiet for a good portion of the meeting, soaking it all in and listening intently. He kicked himself for not asking the question himself. "What's the exit strategy?"

Derek pointed to the last section of the contract. "Right here. If something goes wrong, a 'mutual breakup' will be implemented immediately. An official press release has already been written up, appendix F. We must all carry on the secret after the relationship ends."

They all read through the contract copies in their hands, Stiles more or less skimming through it to make sure he wouldn't have to pose naked for anyone or anything crazy like that. He'd pretty much already made up his mind that he was doing this – even if he hadn't wanted to admit it earlier.

The minute Derek made that comment about how it'll help the band and explained why, he knew it was something he had to do. He owed it to this band and these guys (well, expect maybe Theo – he didn't owe him anything) to do everything in his power to make this successful. Lord knew he wasn't doing a very good job of that on his own. He'd come so close to ruining things –

"Stiles, are you sure about this?" Scott asked, practically reading his mind as he finished reading through the contract.

Stiles knew the depth behind Scott's question, but he shrugged, finally sitting down next to Lydia as he addressed them. "Listen, guys. The reason why we're here is because we wanted to run this by you first. Like they said, this isn't just about us. We all have to be comfortable with this arrangement."

"He's right," Lydia nodded, turning to the band. "This affects you guys just as much as it does us. And you all have just as much at stake if something were to go wrong."

"So, what – you want our blessing?" Isaac asked, chuckling slightly as he looked between them. "Whatever man, you have my permission. It'll be nice to see you social and non-cynical for a change, even if it is fake."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but laughed at his second oldest friend in the group. He always appreciated Isaac's candid attitude, even if he didn't like it at times.

"Dude, I think this is great. I'm happy for you," Liam pipped up, nodding eagerly as he nudged a still-pouting Theo to his right.

"Ow – uh, yeah, I mean. I guess if this means we'll be getting an upgrade in our social circle, I'm down."

Everyone turned to Scott, who was staring down at the contract in front of him. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he finally looked up. "I don't know about this, guys. I mean, it's _lying_ to the world. I just can't see this ending well. You two have met _once_ and argued the entire time. I just don't want anyone getting hurt –"

"Which is exactly what the mutual break-up section was written for. As long as we follow this plan, nothing should go wrong," Peter tried to reassure Scott, who still shrugged at the thought.

"I just want what's best for our band," Stiles replied. "And I think they're right – I think this will help."

Scott thought about it for a while, still looking between Stiles and Lydia, before he finally sighed and said he was in.

Peter grinned, handing the official contract to Lydia and Stiles first to sign, then passed it around for the other members to sign in their tabbed spots, along with Braeden and Natalie's signatures.

"Congratulations," Peter said after he and Derek signed. "Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin are officially dating."


End file.
